I got a key because he kept locking his keys in his car, and after he had to shove me through a tiny window (seriously, so tiny that i had to take off my belt to fit), I insisted that he give me a key so that I would NEVER have to go through that window again. Clearly a major milestone.
The sweetest thing a guy can do, for me, and when I know he's really feelin' me is when he calls for no reason. The last guy called me before band practice a few times because he knew we probably wouldn't talk later in the night. It made me melt for some reason.
Ditto on all of you who've mentioned a few of the real indicators of intimacy. Keys, yes. Whether or not either party made a huge deal about it, or anyone cried tears of joy, it is still a pretty good indicator of trust if nothing else. BUT. True intimacy can manifest itself in the forms of poop, vomit, periods, pubes-on-the-bar-of-soap-and-it-doesn't-gross-you-out. Last week, Mr. Foibles and I reached new heights of intimacy: He had a violent stomach virus. I tucked him onto the couch and brought him a receptacle to throw up in, coaxed some cola syrup into him, watched him vomit all of it back up, brought him a new receptacle-bag and disposed of the full one. Then kept watch for the afternoon. At one point after I'd gone in another room to read, I heard him get up and come running up the stairs to the bathroom. The sounds emanating from the bathroom indicated jet-propulsion dia. He didn't come out for quite some time, and when he did finally emerge, he went straight to the bedroom and got changed. This happened again, in the same fashion. Later he told me about it: He was trying to get more comfortable on the couch, and the slight movement triggered..well, a movement. He was unable to contain it and ruined two pairs of shorts. I felt no revulsion whatsoever, just sympathy, not only because I knew how embarassed he was, but also because I have a fear that this will happen to me someday. (It almost did, once. It was VERY narrowly averted.) Another time, he was constipated for a few days, and finally told me why he'd been complaining of a stomach ache. He asked me to get him a laxative, and I did. The ensuing shitstorm was impressive in that it lasted all evening. The smell was horrific. We laughed about it, together. Now this is true intimacy, see?
*Note: He knows nothing of my bowel habits other than my nocturnal farts, which happen in my sleep and therefore do not count. I will keep it that way for as long as I possibly can.
Oh I missed the timeline notice, clearly. My meeting with my husband went as follows be friends for several years, loose contact, meet up and have sex within 30 minutes of reconnection, have lots of sex, six weeks later get married, stayed married for the last three years, the end (so far). Prior to that I'd never lived with any of my boyfriends not even the one I went out with for six years and nearly married.
@gertymac: for some reason I am now picturing you as standing seven foot tall, clad in a workers union from the 30s propaganda pics and wielding an immense hammer and sickle in your giant communist hands. There is no reason for this image, it just popped into my head without warning. Sorry.
The only significant thing like this I can remember from my relationship is when he bought me my own toothbrush, face wash and deodorant to keep at his place. He even put it in a cute little gift bag. Annnnnd that was four and a half years ago...he's not the most romantic dude but he's a good f*ck so I keep him around.
I slept with Boyfriend on the first night, during which he gave me a massive hickey (we were drunk) which I later disguised from my then-boyfriend by burning it with a curling iron right before I borke up with him.
@badmutha: just use a small tooth comb and like comb it out. It spreads out the blood or whatever is in there. You know you want to give yourself a hickey and try it out now...
Oh, so there's a timeline now? So for all the Cosmo readers out there who have fought long and hard and become someone else in order to land a man, now there's something else for them to fret about? I generalize this way because honestly? Who among us normal folks could muster the strength to give a shit about this sort of "milestone"? Or ascribe sooooo much importance to it? As many of you have said, in a lot of instances it was more a matter of convenience than OMG IT'S LIKE A PRE-ENGAGEMENT!!!! NOW I KNOW HE'S REALLY SERIOUS!!!! Mr. Foibles very casually told me to hang onto his key after a few months of my staying at his house so much and using it to lock the house on the days I left for work later than he did. I was pleased, but not to the point of peeing myself about it. Christ.
I think the most significant step in my last relationship was him giving my his credit card number, expiration date, password (they have credit card passwords sometimes!), social security number...of course i had his address.... Really? You trust me with your credit card number???? Man, that was hard.
Today I learned the heartwarming story of how an acquaintance of mine and her boyfriend got together: she creeped on him in Facebook and he liked it so much he asked her out.
On any first date, somewhere in the first half hour of the evening, I give my date my keys, while farting, then I show her the scar on my arm from that horrible bong burn, dazzle her with the olde "I can Blech the Alphabet" routine, I scratch down my ATM pin number on an atm reciept and hand it to her (so as to indicate negative bank balances). After a quick call to mom, and some photos from Comicon 2004 (I went as a Klingon), If she's still around, then I know she's the one.
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But we were best friends for years before we hooked up. So maybe it doesn't count.
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*Note: He knows nothing of my bowel habits other than my nocturnal farts, which happen in my sleep and therefore do not count. I will keep it that way for as long as I possibly can.
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Two words. Thank. You.
WTF NYT. Grey Lady doth thee compare thee to a winter's day? No. STFU, NYT.
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But I am a giant communist, so it doesn't bother me.
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